


Dumb Frybos

by VictoryRoad



Series: The Holiday Sessions [3]
Category: Nathan For You (TV), Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-19
Updated: 2016-04-19
Packaged: 2018-06-03 03:48:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6595327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoryRoad/pseuds/VictoryRoad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short mash-up, originally written for a project where I wrote 1000 words on random prompts from friends.<br/>He asked (inexplicably) for a Steven Universe / Nathan For You mash-up.<br/>http://jondarthur.tumblr.com/holidaysessions</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dumb Frybos

People often ask me one simple question, “Nathan Fielder, how come you’re always so successful and great at giving advice?” To this, I simply laugh and then hand them a standard industry contract to make sure they’re OK repeating it for the camera. Then, after they’ve repeated it, I finally answer them with something along the lines of “It takes hard work, and dedication, and knowing when a good idea is going to make millions, and when a bad one is too big to actually fail.”

That’s why when I was approached by Frybos, a Beach City boardwalk staple, I knew that I had to help them out or die trying. Thankfully, my producers found out beforehand that Beach City is apparently pretty safe which I thought was a weird fact to have on their website, but it put my mind to rest.  

Beach Citywalk Fries, affectionally called ‘Frybos’ by the locals after the name of their mascot, reminded me of the sort of place my dad would leave me on a hot summer’s day while he went off and hung out with strangers. I sat down with its proprietor, Mr Fryman, to familiarise myself with the chain and its methods.

> NATHAN FIELDER: Thank you for sitting down with me, I know you’re busy with the fries.
> 
> MR FRYMAN: Well, there’s more to a restaurant than just the fries.
> 
> NF: But, like, it’s mostly fries. Obviously.
> 
> MF: I… I guess. Sure.
> 
> NF:How often would you say people describe your fries as ‘the best fries I’ve ever eaten, bar none, call a lawyer and find out if I can sue someone for not being able to experience these fries for the first time ever again’?
> 
> MF: Um.
> 
> NF: Take your time.
> 
> MF: You mean that exact wording?
> 
> NF: Near enough, yeah.
> 
> MF: Huh.
> 
> NF: No one’s ever-
> 
> MF: No, not with that exact wording.

It seemed I had my work cut out for me, and Mr Fryman wasn’t giving me anything to work with. I set to work by calling an old friend, contractor Pete Millman, who had replaced a pipe in my bathroom and in the process forged a life-long friendship I could abuse for capital gain. We spent all night working on my masterpiece. The idea? It was simple. The problem with selling fries is that they’re not accessible or hip like pizza or fish stew. The business needed a hook to get that sweet social media buzz, where people would talk about fries the way they talked about Mariah Carey - which I’m told, is universally enthusiastic.

> NF: My goal is that every time you tweet, a thirteen year old teenager from Iowa calls you ‘DAD’ or asks you to fist them.
> 
> MF: What, I, I’m not sure-
> 
> NF: You’re not sure?
> 
> MF: Well-
> 
> NF: Well, Fisting is the insertion of a hand into a body cavity for sexual gratification.
> 
> MF: [No response]
> 
> NF: Do you-
> 
> MF: No, I get it. I just don’t… I don’t get why I want kids to ask me to do it.

Mr Fryman was unfortunately living in the past, and unlike me, he just isn’t tuned to the cutting-edge social media landscape that he could have access to. That’s where the plan comes in.

The plan? To use the left-over fryer grease to create a large-scale pyrotechnics display at the end of the day. By boosting end-of-day sales through anticipation and generating the exclusive buzz that comes only from viral videos of flaming oil jets cascading over the roof of a wooden fry shop and old, nationally landmarked boardwalk.

> NF: So, what do you think?
> 
> MF: I, uh-
> 
> NF: Pretty cool, right?
> 
> MF: You want to set fryer grease on fire?
> 
> NF: Not just like grease. All the leftover oil and stuff. Easy cleanup.
> 
> MF: I… I need that for the next day. You don’t just, like-
> 
> NF: This seems healthier.
> 
> MF: [No response]
> 
> NF: Do you not agree?
> 
> MF: No.

It seemed clear that Mr Fryman would need to see it in action. So with a little help from neighbourhood kids, Pete, and Mr Fryman’s unfortunately named son Peedee, we set to work building the giant oil fountains that would deliver a pyrotechnics display the town had never seen before.

> NF: So, are you excited about this unique and interesting thing that will definitely go viral?
> 
> RONALDO FRYMAN: Not really.
> 
> NF: Why- why not?
> 
> RF: I mean, this is Beach City. We’re pretty weird.
> 
> NF: How so?
> 
> RF: [Exhales] Well, uh, let me think.
> 
> NF: Take your time.
> 
> RF: Giant hand. Giant woman. Giant moss. Giant living Frybo. Giant eye. Giant watermelon army. Giant-
> 
> NF: OK, I get-
> 
> RF: Giant water tunnel, giant other woman-
> 
> NF: OK, OK, thanks.

I was devastated. Giant things happened all the time in Beach City, and none of them went viral. That did not bode well at all for my giant oil fountain. I slunk back to my trailer, defeated, to lick my wounds and watch family-appropriate videos in total privacy. What happened next was something no one could have expected.

With the oil fountains already set up, we had forgotten that they had been pre-loaded with grease, oil, fat and other fun things that we had shipped in from a local Burger King that got closed because too many people were relieving themselves in the ketchup dispenser. I left my trailer that evening to a sight I never could have expected - the oil fountains, blazing hot, turned outwards as a giant stone figure attacked the city. A similarly large woman was pointing them like they were simple garden hoses. The day was saved, and only half of the boardwalk needed significant reconstruction. Mr Fryman might not have liked my idea, but as with all of my great plans, it was still a real winner in the end.


End file.
